REVENGE OF WENG CHIANG
by Neil Davies
Summary: Something nasty has taken over the shaolin temple in the late 19th century and is converting the monks into terrible agents of destruction and conquest.


33

REVENGE OF WENG CHIANG

It was a routine voyage in the tardis from Gallifrey to earth, if any journey in the tardis can be said to be routine. I expected no problems after all it was a trip I'd made many times before and I was going to earth to visit some old friends.

I should know better by now!

Deflected off course by a power that even my craft couldn't resist, I found myself materialising early and not where I'd intended; once landed I found I couldn't dematerialise, the controls were locked in place; wherever I was I was staying.

The scanner wasn't very helpful it rarely is, showing me a tarmac surface, some narrow concrete pillars, some kind of roll up door, brickwork, a searchlight and a fairly strong drizzle. Terrific, on top of everything else it was raining.

Jamming my floppy hat in place and tightening my scarf I went outside, it wasn't cold but my long maroon coat was soon quite wet and under my boots water squished and splattered with every step. Come on then I thought, show yourself; after all you brought me here so you might as well explain why.

"Stop moving," a female voice amplified so that boomed across the synapses of my brain, "I said stop moving," she repeated when I failed to do so, the next sound I heard was a fizzing pop accompanied by the blinding flash of a laser weapon and a large puddle ahead of me turned to steam.

I decided against defying her again, "I'm getting wet; the least you can do is offer me warm respite."

"I'm not part of the hospitality trade Doctor, produce your documentation."

So she knew who I was but it was clear from her instruction that her knowledge was limited, I don't carry documentation I never have.

"Or," I enquired expecting another blast from that weapon of hers?

"Or," she said suddenly appearing one yard ahead of me, shocking in black leather with long fiery red hair, a young woman tall and shapely aged in her early thirties, "You stay here, permanently," she said.

"You can't arrest me, by what right are you doing this," I demanded playing for time?

Her reaction was to flash some kind of holographic ID logo at me; it was like an eagle eating a worm whilst being bathed in the light of twin suns, very fetching but not terribly helpful.

"This sector of space is tightly regulated, no less than 15 permits are required to traverse it; the penalty for lacking any of them is imprisonment without trial for an unlimited period."

Typical civil service mentality, I'd encountered it many times in the past – the inflexible and dogmatic obsession with procedure.

"I'm a time lord," I said hoping this would impress her.

"I know that, your craft proves it," she said in a tone that was seriously unimpressed.

"We don't need permits."

"You do here Doctor, and if you can't produce them you are now my prisoner."

"May I at least know who you are," I asked struck by her appearance and confident manner?

"I don't have to answer any of your questions," she snapped then her tone softened slightly perhaps moved by my increasingly bedraggled appearance, "However I see no problem in telling you as you're going to held here in stasis for a long time, my name is…."

The sound was discordant, ear splitting and immediate, it seemed to hurt her as much as I or even more, gripping her head and sinking to her knees she let out a moan of pure agony.

At once I unfolded my scarf, ran over and wrapped it around her head to muffle the noise, I have this mental ability to block out noise which she clearly lacked, as tears ran down her cheeks I said, "Let's get into the tardis," when she didn't respond I hauled her to her feet and dragged her to my police box, "You'll be safe in here," I said, "Even if we can't take off."

Silence, blessed silence, oh what a relief and she slumped into a whicker chair removing the scarf.

"The alarm system must have malfunctioned," she gasped, "And by touching me you are in violation of 6 more regulations."

Hovering over the console I scanned the exterior, "It wasn't a malfunction," I said.

"You have abducted me, another offence."

"I said your alarm didn't malfunction," my slightly louder tone cut into the lecture.

Intrigued she came over to me, "Explain," she ordered.

"Look there, an intercept beam," my finger indicated a screen.

"This display is just gibberish to me," she said.

"Transmitted from earth," I said, "Which was where I was heading before you deflected me."

"Legally redirected," she argued then her features softened again, "Thank you by the way, for what you did back there, my eardrums were about to explode."

"Yes they were," I agreed, "You were about to tell me your name, I think."

She thought about that, "I'm not keen on my given name it's too….you can use my adopted name; Damia," she said.

"Well Damia I think that as we've been attacked we should find out why and by whom."

"No, you can't leave here you're under…."

The undulation of the time rotor and the swell of orchestrated sound made it plain that the tardis could not only leave but was in the process of doing so. In the few moments she'd been held by the way station tractor beam she'd worked out its frequency and countered it.

A glistened blue sphere hovered before us on the main viewer one I knew and loved only too well a regular haunt you might say, projecting from it was a narrow silver beam, "There it is," I said, "Eastern sector and backwards in time, that's interesting; not the 21st or 20th centuries but the 19th."

"19th century earth didn't have intercept technology," Damia was telling me what I already knew.

"19th century humans didn't have it, that doesn't mean somebody else isn't there in hiding."

"Can you deactivate that beam from here," she asked, the answer was no I couldn't; the only solution was to go closer much closer.

"We'll have to materialise in that time zone so I can have a look at the equipment, it seems to be shielded in some way."

"You mean materialise in the 19th century," Damia seemed less than thrilled, "That might create some difficulties."

For anyone else maybe but not me and not my tardis, we blended in anywhere, "I've been much further back in time than that."

"I haven't," Damia objected, "Look at me, I'd stand out too much."

"You can stay in the tardis then," I responded, but this didn't go down very well at all.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight Doctor; you're still in my custody."

I couldn't resist a slight smile at this assumption, "Then you're coming with me aren't you," I said, "To China."

The stone walls, equally stone floor and fluttering candles spoke of times past, a time without electricity or central heating. There were some rugs on the floor made of animal fur and hanging tapestries of silk but nothing could disguise the basic smells of human habitation and Damia's nose wrinkled – basic said her eyes very basic. She had borrowed a jacket of mine against the chill and a smaller more feminine scarf that quite suited her; or at least it matched her hair.

Red hair in China it was going to take some explaining.

"You'd better let me do the talking," I said, "Women aren't usually allowed in here."

"You speak Chinese," she asked revealing an ignorance of the tardis translation system?

"We both can," I said without bothering to explain.

"Why aren't women usually allowed in here," she demanded?

"Because this is a monastery," I said, "The Shaolin Temple in hunan to be precise."

She surprised me by what she said next, "I've heard of it, isn't this the place where martial arts were developed?"

I didn't ask her how she knew this, maybe she was a history buff or was into martial arts – these security types usually were.

"The monks will be shocked to see us initially but I should be able to overcome any resistance."

"Why, you don't look like a shaolin monk?"

"I know the ritual greetings, the hand signs; the speech of observance."

Damia didn't look convinced so I took out a small portable tracker, a narrow container that could fit in my palm yet resembled a snuff box, and lifting the lid I studied its interior.

"The intercept equipment is fifty yards west of us and one level down; some kind of basement area."

"Are you armed," she asked, "Well I am," she reached for the gun that had been attached to her belt, it was no longer there, "You've stolen it," she guessed correctly.

"A focused pulse laser doesn't belong here Damia, it's bad enough that one alien is using anachronistic science."

"We may have to defend ourselves," she looked like someone who'd enjoy that.

"None of the monks here is to be harmed, we came for one reason only let's get on with it."

The door was already ajar so pushing it further open I studied the cloister outside, two orange clad monks were creeping bare foot towards us their arms folded and gaze downcast as was the humble manner of this place. I withdrew, where they coming to this room did one of them reside here? Seeing a lengthy curtain I pointed to it and within seconds both Damia and I were concealed from sight.

The monks were indeed heading this room and once inside it they closed its door drawing a wooden bar across, neither paid any heed to the large blue object in the corner which was odd, police boxes didn't exist in their culture certainly not those with English writing on the front.

Looking around briefly the monks faced each other, they were both young and muscular, and one unfolded his arms so that they fell by his sides and then he…

Damia would have let out a gasp if I hadn't cupped her mouth, we couldn't afford to make a single sound.

The monk on the left began to glow, there's no other way to describe it, he emitted a strong saffron-colour light that was soon an aura around his entire body and then his physical features began to dissolve as he became part of the light. Soon nothing of the man was left bar this fluorescent glow, literally a ball of yellow energy which shrank and shrank in size until it was no bigger than a fist.

The second monk produced a pouch made of some synthetic material that did not exist in the 19th century; the fist of light bumped into this and the bag was closed and concealed. The normal monk then exited the room as calm as you please as though nothing amazing had happened.

Damia could barely contain herself, but as she opened her mouth to make some suitably astonished remark I erected a finger for quiet and checked the corridor – now deserted.

"This is more serious than I thought."

"But that monk," she began.

"I know I've never seen kung fu like that either," my flippancy did nothing for the customs officer.

"But it was matter to energy, complete atomic reduction."

"Yes whatever power's here is being used on these monks, I wonder why, I mean why shaolin monks and why this period of history?"

Recovering her wits with impressive speed my companion joined me in the corridor, "alien power source," she said but I made off after the monk.

"Doctor," she hissed.

"Indulge me," I pleaded.

"He's moving in the wrong direction," Damia accused. I knew that but I still wanted to see where the man went and what he did with that ball of energy.

Very soon he came to a tapestry hung over a concealed door, easing the tapestry aside he enter a small alcove within which stood only one thing. A machine with a funnel on the top, carefully the small ball of light was lowered into the funnel; it sank down this into the belly of the machine which gave a contented purr.

A storage device perhaps, I wasn't sure but when the monk left the small alcove he didn't see me; I'm too good at hiding.

Sadly Damia didn't share my skill; perhaps she hadn't skulked around enough.

Seeing her, the monk came out of his trance and tugged at a hanging chord of material, at once the peel of some great bell filled our ears. It was too late to jump the monk – could I overcome him anyway?

"Run," I shouted, "No this way."

Our indecision cost us dearly, as we ran in opposition directions, stopped, came back, argued and dithered a group of other monks descended upon us.

"Don't shoot them," I warned Damia.

"Those pikes look lethal."

"They are but they won't use them if we surrender."

Oh right as if you'd know said her stare, "Safer to shoot them."

"If you take that gun out I disarm you," I wasn't joking.

"Think you can," she sneered, "A man your age?"

Before we could find out an older man clearly in charge stepped forward, pushing his fellows aside. At once I gave the salute of Bodhidharma, left hand in front of my chest, left elbow cupped by my right hand.

"Peace and enlightenment to you brother," I announced bowing deeply. The look he gave me was one of disbelief.

Damia still looked poised to whip out her gun and those pikes were only inches from disaster, but the senior monk or master waved them down.

"Who are you stranger," he snapped?

"I'm not a stranger I am the ghost of time, friend to you're the late abbot Ching Wu and hero of the iron tiger siege."

Silence, wide eyes, a few shaking heads then the head man folded his thick arms slowly, "Ching Wu died 300 years ago," he told me.

"At the gates of the temple gazing out at Song Shan Mountain, he was 94 years old and the only thing he held was a bag of herbs given to him by his dear friend," I fished in a pocket praying I'd remembered to bring it.

A ripple of shock passed through the pike men, but to his credit their leader kept a calm demeanour; taking the bag he looked inside it.

"You must think me a fool stranger."

"Doctor," I corrected, "I show you total respect."

"I cannot accept your impossible story."

"How else could I know of these events unless I myself had witnessed them, it was a cool day, it rained, and it was the fourth day of the third month in the year of the Ox?"

I still wasn't connecting but I'd rattled him that was obvious then he demanded that we go with him, he did not question the fact that I'd brought a woman into the temple which was a relief as I didn't know how I'd explain a customs and excise agent from another galaxy about 500 years in the future.

It wasn't a cell as such, in fact it comfortable by shaolin standards; we just couldn't get out of here. Pang (that was the senior man's name) had taken by bag to his master for verification.

"Buddhists are supposed to respect all life aren't they," Damia challenged, "So they won't kill us."

Spurious thinking in my view, I'd been threatened by all sorts of denominations.

"Buddhist philosophy isn't in charge here anymore Damia."

"So what is what kind of alien force would take over an ancient temple?"

It had happened once before in my life but I didn't want to get into an explanation of DETSEN or robotic yeti.

"Whatever it is we have to stop it," I announced.

"Well we've made a great start haven't we; you should have let me shoot those monks."

Not all of them had been affected yet I was sure of that, Pang seemed normal enough and if he was then so would others be - random execution wasn't an option.

"You can't shoot every problem," I threw back.

"Pacifism only works if the other side believe in it Doctor."

Not arguing I did a scan of the temple and discovered something curious, the alien power source had moved; it was now on the same level as us only to the north.

I showed Damia, "Could it be Pang or his master?"

"I don't think it's Pang; it's not that thing with the funnel either."

"I could blast that door right now," she offered.

"Let's save the extreme violence as a final option," I said.

"Squeamish Doctor," she mocked?

"I prefer to gather facts before rushing in," this was a bit of white lie, alright it was a stinking great dark one but Damia wouldn't know that.

"The alien might just order these monks to kill us," she pointed out.

"Assuming it knows we're here, assuming it isn't curious," I was hoping Pang would take us directly to it but my life is never that simple. "Anyway there's no need for you to blast that door I can open it myself."

Go on then impress me said her raised eyebrows, goaded by them I went to the door felt its timber for a moment then gave it a slight punch with one hand then a harder punch with the other hand.

"There," I said, "That's dislodged the bar."

I pulled, humiliatingly the door refused to budge.

I don't know what hurt more Damia's cynical smirk or the face of Pang as he thrust the door open and glared at me with ill disguised loathing.

"You Doctor are a liar," he told me and he clearly meant it, had my bag of herbs failed the sincerity test.

Before I could say no I wasn't that I rarely if ever lied and never to holy men, Damia took out her gun, she didn't shoot Pang but she made sure he saw it and oddly he didn't question what it was.

"There is an alien power source here, I think you know what I mean Pang; why don't we go and take a look at it."

"Why did I get the impression he'd been going to take us anyway, he certainly didn't raise any objections and I told my companion we needed to be careful. Her response was typical of what I'd come to expect,

"Stop worrying Doctor, we just toast this thing then you're back in my custody."

If nothing else I had to admire her bare-faced confidence, but I didn't share it.

We were both stunned when we saw it; I'm sure my big eyes got a lot bigger and my jaw fell slack. Circling the thing with parted arms I let out a rather dramatic, "Incredible," Followed by an equally loud, "How impressive," then I looked at Pang for his reaction but he didn't give one so I turned to Damia and she to looked stunned.

The ornate metal dragon was 3 meters high and stood on its hind legs with its forelimbs extended forwards at a forty-five degree angle. The body was scaled and the head massive with parted jaws and staring eyes; behind it lay a swishing tale.

"Weng Chiang," I announced, "A mythical Chinese God of abundance, he predates Buddhism and almost every other orthodox faith; so what is he doing here I wonder?"

"Why don't we ask Pang," said Damia?

"Oh he won't know, look at him; some form of deep hypnosis."

"How do you know about ancient oriental deities Doctor; no don't answer that, we haven't got long enough."

"Silver," I said, "These scales are pure silver and the teeth are gold; real gold. See those eyes, rubies, the biggest I've ever seen, the neck is studded with diamonds, amethysts and emeralds. This is most impressive and worth a fortune," My gaze swung to Pang, "This is no crude carving, the metal has been forged and tempered by a process that won't exist on earth for at least…"

"This thing transmitted the intercept beam that affected my station," Damia cut in practical as ever?

"Oh yes," I said, "There's enough power within this thing to split a planet."

"Stand aside Doctor," she was adjusting the power setting on her weapon.

"I'm not sure that will help," I said.

"My blaster can melt this entire mountain, so I don't think a heap of precious metal will be a problem."

"I have another idea, I could materialise the tardis around this object and transport it away from earth."

But she wasn't listening, "Your vehicle is too erratic and even if you could do it my way is simpler and more final."

I knew I couldn't stop her and Pang didn't seem to want to, so I stood aside while she aimed her weapon. It was a wide angle beam to take in the entire sculpture (if that's what it really was and I had my doubts), but the dragon did not melt or dissolve into a pool of magma.

Instead it flashed several very bright colours, issued a high-pitched sound and moved. Yes the dragon moved, the head turned to look directly at us, the jaws parted even more, the fire limbs flexed and the tail whipped across the floor hitting Damia a glancing blow.

The ruby red eyes grew even brighter and knowing what was going to happen I scooped the girl up in my arms and took us both out of the way. Not so fortunate Pang was caught in the twin scarlet beams that flashed through the air and vaporised instantly. Animate and aggravated the metal creature rose on those mighty back legs like a tyrannosaurus and turned towards me.

I didn't know if it was alive in some way or a robot and this hardly mattered, it was on the move and it was deadly. I carried Damia out via another exit too small for the monster to follow.

She came to some yards later and began to kick free of my grasp, I put her down.

"We have to go back," she protested.

"You lost your gun," I pointed out.

"We must destroy that thing Doctor."

"It was in the process of destroying us Damia; I think escape was the only logical option."

Opening her mouth to speak she instead took a much needed breath, "We can't just give up."

I had no intention of doing so but a more intelligent approach was called for, we'd underestimated our foe and it had almost cost us dearly; we couldn't make that mistake again.

"Pang is dead," I told her. So what said her eyes? "It would have been helpful to question him, now we have to find someone else."

"Oh yes I see, anyone in mind?"

Yes I did; the only logical choice in my view.

When we reached the inner sanctum it wasn't guarded in any way because no monk would ever come here unless summoned and no outsider would know how to find it.

"What makes you think the abbot can help us or that he knows what's going on?"

"Damia; shaolin abbots know about everything going on inside their temple, I've met several in my time and always been impressed."

"What if he's under alien control?"

"I'm hoping he is," I said and when her gaze questioned this I offered an elusive smile.

But the inner sanctum was empty, at least I couldn't see anyone in residence, no abbot no attendant.

"Maybe he's on vacation," Damia suggested although she seemed impressed by the elegant silks, porcelain vases and painted murals of monks in various fighting postures.

"Abbots don't have holidays; he's the spiritual leader here."

"Odd mix, Buddhists and martial arts."

"This is a lawless time, China is full of bandit gangs and this is an easy target. People are forbidden by law to bare arms so…." I let this idea hang in the air.

"Well your abbot isn't here so we've had a wasted trip Doctor."

But I had paused near a meditation mat, upon it lay a small porcelain vase and within this I could see a pulsating, gelatinous mass. The abbot was here just in a different form, Damia paled when she saw the living ooze.

"Oh god what's happened to him," she backed away, "Is that thing all that's left of the abbot?"

"Bio molecular reduction, he's not dead but it isn't much of a life; we can only hope he's sentient."

My gaze was drawn to a large oval polished mirror to one side of the room; in it I saw not my reflection but that of an elderly Chinese man with a long grey beard and piercing eyes.

"Abbot Chang Yi," I gasped aware I was witnessing a feat of psychic projection on an impressive scale for a human.

Chang said something but I couldn't make it out so moving nearer to the glass I asked him to repeat it, which he did.

Damia frowned, growing frustrated, "Silent movies won't help us."

Waving her quiet I closed my eyes, the link was tenuous and might end at any time so I had to pay attention.

Chang didn't say much more and then he was gone, I frowned, "seek the eye of the scorpion, "I muttered, "That's what he said and he used all his will power to tell us."

"No scorpions in here," Damia waved, "Not even carvings so that's not a lot of help."

Thinking quickly I went over to a tapestry that was an ink drawing of the temple literally a blueprint done by hand. I soon discovered where we were, dead centre. "Each chamber at shaolin is named after an element or an animal see here – tiger, panther, serpent, crane and…there it is the scorpion room."

"It's not far from here either, north about thirty-five meters."

"Don't forget our metal friend; he might have picked up Chang's telepathic contact."

"We need to arm ourselves," she insisted.

This amused me – after all what kind of weapon could we possibly employ against a silver dragon that could fire a twin death ray?

"The best weapon is knowledge; we need to find out how Weng Chiang or whoever's pretending to be him got here."

But the creature wasn't there when we reached the scorpion room, festooned as it was by ink drawings of the hideous arachnids and an impressive bronze sculpture of one about two meters in length, even though it wasn't real the critter sent a chill through both my hearts.

"Lot's of scorpions," Damia observed, "All of whom have eyes, where do we begin looking?"

"The abbot didn't say the eye of a scorpion but of _the_ scorpion," I circled the big bronze model.

Damia sighed, "The eyes of this thing as just polished glass."

"Let's see if they detach," I tugged at one, nothing so I tried the other, "aha this is more like it."

"A nugget of silica, that's a big help."

Touching the head of my screwdriver to the nugget I released a narrow beam of sonic energy and at once the thing flashed brightly giving off several small rainbows.

"It's a prism and no ordinary prism either; do you have a spare power pack for your gun?"

She handed it over and I adhered this to the side of the eye with my sonic, at once the prism began pulsing softly.

"I still don't see how that will help us, it's hardly a weapon."

It would be when I was finished with it, fishing in my pockets I produced an odd assortment of apparently useless items but two were a small magnet and a few flakes of magnesium.

"What exactly are you making, or is this some kind of desperate experiment?"

It would have wasted time explaining so I didn't bother and this irritated Damia as much as any of my previous companions, in any case we could both hear the thumping, clanging approach of a certain god.

"Let's stand on the other side of this sculpture," I drew Damia nearer to the tail of the bronze scorpion.

"You do realise that there's no other way out of here Doctor, if your gadget doesn't work…."

"I didn't realise that customs agents were so timid," my remark had the desired effect – back stiffening, chin rising and cheeks flushing she threw me the kind of look that would have incinerated the meanest arachnid on the spot.

Then he burst in on us, Weng Chiang; jaws snapping, tail thrashing and those red eyes pulsing brightly; the violence was as immediate as it was shocking but neither Damia nor I were strangers to trouble.

Instinctively we both crouched down but twin red beams of death didn't miss us by much and some hanging silks disappeared.

The next attack caused some bear skin rugs to ignite into gulping blue flames.

I turned the sonic on, energy filled the prism and erupted from it in all directions; it wasn't focused enough, I needed a tighter more dedicated beam.

Sensing a threat to its existence the dragon stormed towards us, claws lashing back and forth. Grabbing a vase Damia threw it at the head of the beast, a claw shattered the priceless artefact. Next she picked up a foot stool but before she could even toss it that whip-like tail flung from her grasp.

I changed frequencies, the prismatic light narrowed and narrowed and finally it struck the monster mid-chest.

To my great disappointment Weng didn't explode or melt or topple backwards, he just glowed; turning first one colour then another.

"It's not working," I hardly needed anyone to tell me that, upping the frequency again I rose and edged closer to Weng; maybe distance was the key issue. But in going nearer I committed a cardinal mistake; I brought myself within range of the tail.

One blow sent me flying sideways to hit and bounce off a wall, dropping sonic and prism I collapsed in an undignified heap robbed of breath and half my senses. Death it was then, I could do nothing to stop it.

But Damia bless her wasn't one to give up so easily, sprinting over she seized the prism and threw it right into the jaws of the monster.

With a bellow and a burst of light luminosity Weng Chiang vanished, he was gone in seconds.

Giving a scream of delight Damia turned to me with a look of utter triumph, I've done it said her gaze I've destroyed him.

Looking at where Weng had been I dusted my scarf.

"Time to go," Damia announced.

"Is it," I responded?

"Nothing to stay for Doctor and you are now back in custody."

If only things were that simple, "I think you'll find that Weng hasn't been destroyed he just transmatted away from here."

She lost her smug air of victory at once, "What," the word was accusatory, "But you said….transmatted where exactly?"

Going to the scorpion I prized its other eye out and held it up, as I'd suspected it was another prism; two were required.

"I thought the abbot said eye but he must have meant eyes; plural, both eyes are needed in tandem for this to work."

"You mean you got it wrong, blew it, screwed up and have we're back to square one?"

Taking the first eye off her I held it next to the second, light jumped between them in perfect symmetry.

"Not quite," I said, "We've got Weng on the run now it's a different game, so why don't we finish it, why don't we go god-hunting?"

She still didn't seem impressed but followed me back to the abbot's quarters, where I felt sure another clue could be found. Holding the two eyes in my hand I circled the chamber and about half-way through my revolution the prisms began to flash, yes I'd been right there was something here concealed from view.

"Behind the dragon mural," I said and Damia went to check.

"Nothing just a rug."

"Remove the rug," I advised.

"Stone floor…no wait there's something else."

As she squatted down I continued my revolution and was drawn once more to the mirror in which I'd first seen the abbot, he was back and this time the link was much stronger; helped no doubt by the twin prism.

Joining me Damia said, "The thing under the rug is part of a transmat system, presumably how our alien got here."

"Yes well a spaceship would have been a bit conspicuous."

"What did you see in the mirror this time?"

I threw her a smile, "Let's get some fresh air shall we, it's a bit musty in these cloisters."

An amazing site was waiting for us in the main courtyard, an army of monks moving in unison performing the most extraordinary dance – kicking, spinning, punching, ducking and leaping – it was an incredible sight and although I'd seen it before it never failed to leave me breathless. I could tell Damia was impressed to from the slant of her head and the gleam in her eyes.

"Shao Hong Chuan," I told her, "Translates as little red boxing I think."

"Done some kung fu have you Doctor?"

"I've shaken my leg when the occasion demands."

I did a pan with my tracker, we were stood close to a tall thick pillar festooned with Chinese characters; it afforded us a degree of cover, not that the monks paid us the slightest attention.

Damia pointed, "How about that huge stone Buddha in the corner?"

I shook my head, no reading.

"The vast marble tiger," she offered next but this was a negative to.

"The ornate brass gong," I sighed.

"It must be here somewhere," her frustration was mounting.

"He's a good shape shifter our alien, he knows how to blend in."

"Could he be posing as one of the monks," it was a good idea and as I began to scan them six monks broke away from the rest, ran towards us and came to a halt only a few yards away their eyes burning into us.

As a group they began to glow just as the earlier monk had glowed, fiercely brilliant they flashed and strobed like neon ghosts. Then their bodies contracted into small pulsing spheres that rose high into the air.

I pulled Damia down just in time, forks of crackling light jumped from three of the spheres missing us by inches but scorching the stone wall black. These were Weng's front line troops, possessed monks atomically altered. More lightening crackled around our heads almost singing my curls.

"We should go back inside," Damia suggested.

"They'd just follow us."

"Why aren't the other monks paying this any attention," she asked?

I didn't know and ducked lower as more lightening bolts sizzled through the air, all the time my thumbs were rapidly texting information into the hand-held tracker.

The spheres decided to dive bomb us to strafe our position, as they came into range I turned the tracker to full power, it's receptors now transmitters. A sphere burst into a flower of plasma and vanished then another and a third, the rest veered off; scattering wildly. Pleased though as I was I knew they were just minnows, distractions; the main event had yet to start. The real battle would be with Weng himself.

"Why come here to this temple in this year," Damia muttered and I thought I knew.

"Have you heard of the Boxer Rebellion?"

"Yes, a bunch of kung fu guys who thought they were immune to bullets."

"That's very good for a customs agent."

She ignored me, "They soon learned the hard way that they weren't."

"But what if they had been," I postulated, "If the rebellion had succeeded and a new order gained power in China."

"You mean Weng Chiang, is that what he wants a power base on earth."

"Why stop at China, she neighbours Japan, Russia and lots of other interesting, influential places?"

Giving that some thought Damia pointed, the spheres were coming back in a line. I steeled myself for their attack but…it didn't come, instead at the last moment they ducked out of sight and flew through a doorway into the temple.

"They're going to that machine with the funnel aren't they Doctor?"

"Yes I think I know what that is to, it converts bio-electrical energy into fuel; Zigma Particles."

"Zigma," she sounded doubtful, "Aren't they highly unstable."

"As a mode of transport through time yes, but they do have other uses for cybernetic life forms."

"Is that what this alien is, a cyborg?"

It acted like a cyborg and all the clues so far pointed to this, then I felt heat on my collar and through the back of my coat; my scarf began to smoke and so did my hair.

At once I pulled Damia way from the thick stone pillar because it wasn't a pillar anymore it was a column of boiling meta-plasma rapidly reshaping itself into…

"Hello again," I called rummaging in my pockets for the twin prisms now welded to my sonic as were one or two other items.

Bigger than before the metal creature parted its jaws and a forked tongue made of allow flicked out, grease dripped from the gold teeth and the ruby red eyes flashed malevolently.

Fake god he might have been but as a threatening metallic reptile Weng was an impressive sight, what species could he be, I couldn't even guess?

"Move away from Damia, we need to make two targets and divide his attention."

But as she tried to move the long lethal tail flashed out, its message clear; stay where you are.

Seeing a pike leaning against a wall my companion grabbed it as if she preferred the feel of a weapon in her hands even one that seemed futile.

"Do you know how to use that," I asked?

"Of course I do, I was a Lieutenant in the marines."

Now why didn't that surprise me, I faced Weng.

"You must leave this planet and this time period," I told him, "You have no place here."

The red eyes continued to pulse and the great body leaned over me as if about to bite.

"I know you can understand me Weng or whatever your real name is, I am a time lord."

A claw lunged at me as if trying to swat a fly, I had to duck beneath it but my scarf wasn't so lucky, snagged by a nail it was torn from my neck and held up like a trophy.

"I would like that back please," but as I said this Weng increased the heat in his claw and my precious scarf burst into flames.

"Do you know how long it took to knit that," I gasped.

"Doctor, forget your stupid scarf," Damia thrusted her pike at the monster, not even bothering to block the shaft the creature let its skin be scraped then made another grab for me.

I turned my sonic on, a note filled the air; the prisms began to flash every imaginable colour. At point-blank range I had high hopes, but the sudden magnesium flash, popping noise and smell of burning told me my lash-up had shorted out. This time the metal claws not only found me they lifted me into the air with ease, rather than drop the lash up I tossed it to Damia; luckily she caught it.

"Repair it," I gasped.

"I don't know how."

"I thought you were a marine."

Her features became agonised, "I washed out during basic training."

"Now you tell me," I cried as Weng lifted me level with those burning rubies, "At least tell me who you really are," I implored, "I don't believe in gods, Chinese or otherwise."

Not giving anything away Weng began to retreat back into the temple carrying me like a sack of spuds, never had I felt so helpless, so ineffectual; my plan had totally backfired. I looked at Damia now desperately trying to rewire the lash-up; she threw me the kind of look that offered little hope.

Follow us I gestured and to her credit she did, I was still after all her prisoner.

"Where is he taking you," she called?

"We're heading down into the very bowels of the temple," I called as Weng strode backwards down a set of wide stone stairs as the flickering light of candles gave way to a more powerful glow.

"What's down here Doctor?"

"I'm not sure the stone looks like it's been recently carved."

We were approaching a round chamber cut out of the granite and in the centre of it was the rest of the alien's equipment, his transmit arch, a computer terminal a wide transparent cylinder.

I was placed in a high backed chair and the moment my body touched it I was held in place by a strong magnetic force.

Entering the cylinder, which closed around him, Weng touched a control and soft amber light began to bathe him.

"What is he doing, recharging," Damia was behind the chair but wisely not touching it or she might have suffered the same fate as me.

"See if you can find the controls that deactivate this chair," I told her.

"Why didn't Weng just kill you when he had the chance?"

Not knowing the answer to this I looked at my lash-up, it was nowhere near repaired.

"Hand me the sonic," I said.

"But you can't move."

"Just place it in my right hand, skin contact is enough; the sonic reacts to my bio-print."

"What about the prisms, I thought they were the key to this; the eyes of the scorpion?"

Yes I'd thought that to but so far they hadn't won the day, with the sonic in my palm I gave it a telepathic command and it began to sing to me playing a symphony of notes until it found the right octave, there - the grip of the chair was weakening, I could move an ankle, a shoulder and even turn my head.

"Look at Weng," said my companion. Changing shape rapidly Weng was becoming more humanoid assuming a man-like aspect, a large metallic man with a cone-shaped head; this presumably was his real form but he still had the ruby-red eyes.

"We haven't much time," I gasped, "Take the prisms over to that terminal and see if they slot in anywhere."

Dashing over to the computer Damia circled it anxiously, her eyes scanning every inch of the thing whilst I continued to free my long anatomy from the persistent embrace of the chair.

"Well," I called to my reluctant companion?

"Nothing so far," she said.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," her tone was caustic.

At last I broke free and stumbled in her direction, we weren't having much luck and the alien seemed almost finished.

"The eyes of the scorpion," I repeated wondering if it had another meaning, "Look around this room, see if you can see anything resembling a scorpion?

Lots of carved Chinese characters but apart from that there was little decorative in the alien chamber, some star charts, a logo, a spiral of DNA codes.

My eyes fixed on the latter, DNA.

"Damia look to your left, a DNA helix."

"So, it's the alien's I imagine."

"Yes but look at the shape of it, doesn't it remind you of something?"

She cottoned on at once, the helix was made up of coloured buttons or nuggets of crystal and where the eyes should have been were two empty sockets.

"Attach the prisms," I told her.

"What difference will that make?"

Just do said my earnest features at the alien emerged with slow, thudding steps to glare at us both, needing him to focus on me and not Damia I stepped forwards with my brightest smile and I smile very well even if I do say so myself.

"On your knees," said a deep baritone suitably metallic.

"Don't waste the deity act with me," I replied, "I know you're not a god."

Those red eyes flashed with what was surely anger, "And you the Doctor," he told me, "Our paths have crossed before when you defeated my servant in London."

Good old Magnus Greel, mad, bad and doomed; destroyed in the end by his own equipment.

"I defeated you there as well," I pointed out and Weng seemed to tremble with some powerful inner emotion.

"You will not prevail here, here I am stronger."

"Possibly," I hedged.

"Certainly," came the proud roar, "This time I am backed up by an army not some pathetic time renegade and a third-rate stage illusionist."

"True but then you're still interfering with the natural pattern of history and it's got to stop."

Pure bravado on my part but it's carried me a long way over the centuries, out of the corner of my eye I saw Damia working furiously to attach the prisms. I knew the helix wasn't a mere design it was networked to everything here.

"It will not stop," said our host, "It will accelerate."

"Today shaolin tomorrow Shangri-la," I joked but metal faces don't smile and he had no sense of humour anyway?

"This is a nation full of warriors, their skills will come in very useful," he told me and I had a sudden vision of shinning Chinese hordes invading everywhere impervious to bullet or bayonet.

"Oh let me guess," I said, "The talons of Weng Chiang," but my flippancy made not a dent in his ambition?

"You are a fool and a weakling who lacks vision."

I'd been told so many times, even by my own teachers.

"I see enough to know that this plan of yours won't work, you can't sustain yourself here; even converted Zigma energy is too unstable. If you devoured every monk in this temple it wouldn't keep you going for more than a few weeks."

"Perhaps I need a new form of energy, Artron energy perhaps," the fierce fiery rubies fixed on me and I had a vision of ending up down that funnel, simmering away in some atomic pot.

"Too rich for your blood," I told him.

"I think I'd like to find out for myself," then his head swung to Damia who had just about fixed the prisms.

"Stop what you are doing," Weng roared, she ignored him hurrying to complete the task, "Very well die if you must I do not need you."

I shouted a warning and she moved just in time, the lethal red beam missed her by a whisker and hit the prisms igniting them. The missing element was thus acquired, Weng's own killing beam.

The helix roared with power and that power coursed through the entire chamber jumping through circuits and conduits like a fast acting poison like the sting of a scorpion.

From Weng came the most terrible roar of fury and he swung back to me, it was no time to stand there shooting the breeze, ducking those eyes of his I sought solace behind the magnetic chair and found Damia cowering in the same place.

"He's going mad," she said, "All we've done is provoke him."

We'd done more than that, the computer was on fire – everything was with an unearthly glow and rapidly tendrils of this light were converging from every corner towards Weng.

Seeing them he backed up to his cylinder.

"Zigma feedback," I gasped.

"What?"

"When turned back upon itself Zigma energy begins to consume everything, we need to get out of here Damia."

She blinked at me, "The chamber?"

I meant the entire temple, already the ground beneath us was shaking, the walls were splitting and dust and stones had begun to fall in small flurries.

Back in his cylinder Weng sealed it but the tendrils of Zigma reached this and began to surround it in a blazing cocoon of light, within the cylinder Weng began to smoke and steam as he over heated, his metal skin started to perspire before turning molten; running and bubbling in hot searing puddles.

"He's being cooked" said Damia.

Yes I thought and we will be to if we hang about, "Come on," I dragged her with me out of the chamber. Panic stricken monks fled around us, I urged them to abandon the temple but they needed no prompting.

"Will Weng be destroyed," Damia asked me as I hunted for the tardis?

I hoped so, either that or forced to abandon earth.

"Where did we leave the tardis," I cried?

"Next on the left, third on the right," Damia surprised me by saying.

"How do you know that," I asked?

"I have an unerring sense of direction Doctor."

"You must have, this place is a labyrinth."

Bumping into fleeing monks every inch of the way we finally came the room with the tardis in it, opening its door I waved her inside; around us the temple was crumbling, bursting; ripped apart by implosive Zigma energy.

Gasping but relieved we staggered to the console, I hit three switches and the rotor began to convulse. With a loud thud masonry hit the tardis exterior but we were safe and would soon be away from earth.

"Thank goodness for that," I said with a mighty sigh of relief.

"So we're safe now are we, we've left China," Damia asked?

"It would seem so," I agreed.

"Good," something metallic clicked and found that around my left wrist was a hand-cuff, the other cuff was around Damia's wrist, "I am rearresting you," she announced, "You will now fly us back to the station."

The look I gave her was one of utter disbelief, after all we'd been through she was back to being a customs agent?

"You can't be serious," I told her, "Nobody arrests me inside my own tardis."

I just did, said her eyes, "I told you Doctor, I'm not letting you out of my sight; now set coordinates for the station."

"Take these off at once," I raged.

"I most certainly will not."

"Damia please, this is absurd."

"I don't think so, you have charges to answer and I shall make sure you do; now deport us back to the station."

I sagged miserably knowing I was beaten, "Even if I do there's no guarantee that we'll get there directly, my ship doesn't work like that."

Don't give me that said her expression.

"We just fought off a hostile alien aggressor together; doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"What happened on earth has no bearing to your illegal activities away from it."

"I saved your life Damia."

"Yes and I saved yours," she threw back, "Now set the coordinates."

"It could be a long, circuitous trip," I pointed out.

"Stop making excuses Doctor, you're in custody and you aren't going to wriggle out of it."

Very well I thought if that's how it's going to be, "Oh Damia you're a one off," I said, "But you don't know what you're letting yourself in for."


End file.
